If I was able to pause a moment it time to view again it would be the first time I wanted to do this art book. 10 does not chip away easily. There is nothing weigh less about making an art book. My hopes are that it finds you warmly and beautifully.

Everything in some way just as much as I made the book, the book kinda of made me.
On my best days of the book is how it feels. It should feel like a love song to the page. It should feel like a kiss in the winter.

The hell with not being real. Art has this heart to it and if you can’t hear the heartbeat then I will see you on the other side. Paint requires me and inks but not those who can’t feel the strokes. Too long ago I stopped hearing the sound. I was deaf to my hands and canvas. It calls for all these colors and forms and now I hear the ringing and I’m going into the studio to bathe in it. Freedom is blinding and scary but if the shark gets me then I died doing what I love. To the anger … I can swim forever, can you?